


My Reflection (Dirty Mirror)

by Saccharine_Ghosts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Developing Relationship, Era-Typical Homophobia/Misogyny, Everybody Is In Character, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Homophobia, Humor, I'm Sorry, In Character, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Figure Skating, Not Kubo's Universe of Sunshine and Rainbows, Period-Typical Racism, Racial slurs, Racist Language, Sadly, Sex In The Woods basically, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Smut, Title Makes It Sound like Viktor is Against Yuuri but I assure you he is not, Violence, War Era, don't hurt me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccharine_Ghosts/pseuds/Saccharine_Ghosts
Summary: As far as Yuuri Katsuki is concerned, he is Canadian.Of course, Yuuri knows he wasn’t born here. He knows that he’s only a Canadian citizen because it says so on a piece of paper, not by blood, but it sure as hell feels that way. He’s become accustomed to the cold and rain, and his Canadian accent is almost as thick as his mother’s Japanese one. Everybody in his family was born in Hasetsu, Kyushu, and when Yuuri asked his father why they picked Vancouver, he was told that the beaches were the same. Kyushu is a distant memory at this point, kept alive only by his immigrant family and the few photos he has at home, stuck to his desk by some tacks.~~~During World War II, Japanese Canadian Yuuri Katsuki is drafted and sent to Britain to fight. When he gets there, he meets many American soldiers in similar situations to him.Enter Russian American Viktor Nikiforov.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I usually hate AU's because it doesn't feel like the character, if that makes sense. I always feel like that isn't the character I love because they're so out of character in order to fit the story. I tried my hardest while writing this to keep everybody as in character as possible. 
> 
> May I present to you Yuri!!! In War. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Title is from Zero by The Smashing Pumpkins.)

As far as Yuuri Katsuki is concerned, he is Canadian.

Of course, Yuuri knows he wasn’t born here. He knows that he’s only a Canadian citizen because it says so on a piece of paper, not by blood, but it sure as hell feels that way. He’s become accustomed to the cold and rain, and his Canadian accent is almost as thick as his mother’s Japanese one. Everybody in his family was born in Hasetsu, Kyushu, and when Yuuri asked his father why they picked Vancouver, he was told that the beaches were the same. Kyushu is a distant memory at this point, kept alive only by his immigrant family and the few photos he has at home, stuck to his desk by some tacks. 

His favourite is of him, his older sister Mari, and their family dog, Vicchan, in the foreground of a sunset with a building behind them. Mari told him once that the building was a ninja house, and he remembers from one of his father’s old Japanese books that ninjas were Japanese warriors that would do anything for their country. 

He thinks that, maybe one day, he’d like to visit Japan. Maybe one day he wouldn’t be called a traitor to his country if he went back just one last time. Yuuri hopes that one day the borders will open up for him, and he can travel as he pleases, but he’d like to visit Japan first. 

His dreams are shattered when he wakes up one morning in early September. He’s seventeen years old, almost eighteen, and has lived in Japan for almost thirteen years, and things have begun to calm. He hasn’t heard the term ‘Jap’ in a negative connotation in a little over six months, and the kids at school have been pronouncing his name correctly for a few years now, he even has some people he could call his friends. He gets out of bed early, eager to eat breakfast and do his chores before he heads to work on his bike as a paper delivery boy. When he makes his way down the stairs, his dad is nowhere to be seen, probably up early working on the finishing touches for their newly built house, but his mom and Mari are sitting at the table.

Mari’s face is void of emotion, lips a thin line where a conniving grin usually lays. Her arms are wrapped tightly around their sobbing mother, clutching to Mari’s pyjamas and wailing in incoherent Japanese. She doesn’t look up from a spilt white coffee cup on the table, but she must have sensed Yuuri’s presence in the room as she lifts the newspaper off the table and hands it to him. Yuuri grabs it slowly, struggling to let his eyes meet the paper, and when he does he regrets it.

‘England & France Declare War Against Germany’

He knows what this means. He knows that there is a possibility that his dad might be drafted. He also knows that Mari might try to join in somehow and help, and he’ll have to convince her not to so his mom isn’t left alone. He feels selfish but he hopes the war doesn’t last long enough for him to reach eighteen and be drafted.

Hiroko’s loud wail brings him back to his senses. She gets up from the table and embraces him, but he just can’t bring himself to move his arms. He feels like he’s deep, deep underwater. He can’t breathe, there’s a weight on his chest. There’s a weight everywhere; the pressure is killing him. Wasn’t it just years before that we had fought? 

The sun still sets, and the moon still rises, despite the battle that is brewing to the east, but the day feels different. He feels sluggish, intoxicated. Yuuri has never felt stress like this before. Not even when he was learning English, or when the boys at school threatened him because he was different; not even when Yuuko asked him to go for a date and when he declined she demanded a reason why. Despite the stress, despite impending war, despite the threat of being sent to fight and having his family torn apart, all he can think about is Hatsetsu, Kyushu. When he’s lying in bed that night, looking across at Mari lying wide-awake, eyes open, just staring at the ceiling, he tries his best to imagine what Japan was like. How the air smelt, the texture of Viktor’s fur, the way the sun looked, the way the people spoke with accents different to his own but all too familiar. Yuuri does this in case he may never see Japan again, and hopes that he will; hopes that Japan and Canada will continue to be allies and the boys at school will continue to be his friend, and Yuuko will keep asking for a date, and his Japanese will be just as good as his English. 

“Mari-neechan,” he whispers to the still figure across from his bed, “Can you tell me about Japan?” It’s said in Japanese, but Yuuri can’t help but curse himself for letting his Canadian accent slip through. 

“Go to bed, Yuuri.” Mari replies in English, pulling the covers over her shoulders and turning away from him to face the wall. If there was ever a sign of how his life was about to change, this was it, not the newspapers. 

But when he goes to school the next day, not much is different. There is a glum mood, yes, but the day goes on. Yuuri’s friends are quiet, there is no teasing him about his very proper English that day, and the lessons are met with a lot more silence than usual. Yuuri is quiet too, though; it’s not just his friends. Nishigori, a family friend who is two years his senior, tries talking to him on his way home from school. 

“Hey, Katsuki-kun,” He ruffles Yuuri’s hair and almost knocks his glasses (that his family had worked so hard to get him) off his face, “Want to go with me and Yuuko-san to the market? Apparently they just got in a new shipment of soba from Okinawa.” Nishigori has only lived Japan for six years, and his accent is much stronger. 

“You should be speaking English, Takeshi.” Yuuri brushed the bigger boy’s hand off of his head and adjusted his glasses; “You are in Vancouver now, not Karatsu.” He walked away, head hung low, gripping the straps of his bag over his shoulder. Nishigori doesn’t move, but his eyes are wide and his hand is hovering in the air where it had been on Yuuri’s head. Never had his friend called him by this name before, and he can’t help but notice. 

Again, the sun still sets and the moon still rises. Tonight when he comes home from his paper route, Mari is making dinner. 

“Where is mother?” He says, taking his shoes off at the door. 

“In bed.” She replies, not looking up from the pot. 

“Where’s father?” The contraction feels foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t know if he’s ever used it before. Mari looks up from her stew, but doesn’t turn around. 

“He hasn’t come home.” 

Yuuri doesn’t panic. When Toshiya got a letter in the mail that his mother had passed a few years prior, he didn’t come home for three days, and when he returned he reaked of booze and looked like he had been through hell. 

Yuuri doesn’t panic. His father comes home, and the sun sets and the moon rises, and the world continues to turn. 

Yuuri doesn’t lose hope, despite the violence raging right under his feet. Thousands are killed, but they will not interfere yet, and he will not be drafted for the war. Over the next couple years, he works more and more, eventually getting a job at the docks helping sort fish with Takeshi and his grandfather. 

He calls Takeshi by his first name now, and Takeshi calls him Yuuri; not Yuuri-kun, or Katsuki-kun, just Yuuri. 

He’s at work one day in December. The fall ended a few weeks before and they’re finishing preparing for the winter months ahead. Yuuri’s only worry now is that when his work ends, he’ll gain the weight back he’d been trying so hard to lose, and if he’s drafted they’ll make him work twice as hard. Takeshi suddenly yelps beside him, dropping the knife and rope and holding his right hand tightly in his left. 

“I almost cut my thumb off! Jesus-“ He groans loudly. Yuuri sits up immediately, pulling out his scarf from his bag. 

“Sit on the barrel there,” He tries to pull Takeshi’s hand away from his body, but the man is much bigger, especially now that he’s twenty. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me, Takeshi, sit on the fucking barrel and give me your hand.” Takeshi stops, pouts, and complies. Yuuri is normally so polite and quiet, but he always gets his way. Yuuri ignores the fact that it’s just barely the beginning of Winter and his mother knit him this scarf, and rips it into smaller strips, tying it tight around Takeshi’s finger.

Suddenly, something hard hits him in the back of the head, and he can’t keep his balance as the pain wracks his brain and he collapses, Takeshi just barely catching him. 

Yuuri tries to blink through the haze a few times, and when he finally gets his bearings he turns around and sees the Carol boys from down the street, whom he used to babysit, holding rocks in their hands, baring their teeth at him. 

“What the hell was that for?” he ground his teeth, rubbing the back of his head, unable to hold back his foul language despite the young boys in front of him. 

“It’s time for you to go back home!” 

“Why did you throw a rock at me, Johnny? Did Mari send you? You don’t have to listen to what she-“ 

“I mean your actual home, Jap shit!” Yuuri startles, Takeshi too, but he manages to reach a hand up to block another rock coming in his direction. 

“What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?” Takeshi is fuming with rage beside him, standing up from the barrel. His size obviously intimidates the boys, as they back up and drop the rocks in their hands. 

“My dad,” Billy, the youngest, starts. “He says that the Japs lied to us, he says their traitors! They’re going to be sent home soon, and they’re going to be killed when they get there for being traitors too!” Yuuri’s eyes are wide and he is scared as all hell, but he picks up his bag and throws the rest of his scarf at Nishigori. 

“Takeshi, go home right now, make sure Yuuko is okay.” He throws the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and jogs towards home, nearly slipping on a patch of ice by the entrance to the market. It normally takes him half an hour to walk home, but it only takes him ten before he bursts in the door, forgetting about his shoes as he slams the door. 

Just days after Yuuri’s twentieth birthday, his dreams really are crushed for good.

The radio he had bought his father for Christmas last year is on the dining room table, and everybody in his family is sat around it. His mother is crying again, but this time his father is there to hold her. Mari is crying as well, which Yuuri thinks startles him more than the rocks did minutes before. He takes a step towards the table, and only his father looks up. Mari’s face is hidden, quietly bawling into her hands, and their mother is gripping the collar of his dad’s work shirt tight to her face, loud, violent sobs jarring Toshiya but he just looks up at Yuuri, his expression unreadable.

He listens, and there is a broadcast on repeat. Apparently Japan has attacked Oahu, Hawaii, and that’s all that Yuuri gets before he collapses. His vision wades into black, and he can’t even tell if he’s breathing at this point. That feeling of being deep under water returns except this time it is so much worse, and he can’t even fathom what is happening right now. Yuuri imagines that if he could feel anything in that moment, he’d have felt betrayed, he would’ve felt sick to his stomach that the good people of Japan could have let this happen, would have volunteered to stick by Hitler’s side. 

When he wakes up, he’s in his bed. The room reeks of perspiration and he’s damp all over. When his vision clears from clenching his eyes so tightly, Toshiya is sitting on a stool beside him, head in his hands. 

“We’re never going back to Japan, are we?” his voice is rough, it feels like he’s been screaming at the top of his lungs, but he doesn’t remember screaming. 

His father shakes his head. 

“I guess we should be glad, we won’t be drafted anymore.” It’s meant to lighten the mood, but it just comes out sad. “I don’t think I would’ve made a good soldier, anyway.” He forces a smile, and shuts his eyes again. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Toshiya shakes his head, “You’re still going to have to fight for your life.” Yuuri’s smile falters, but he can’t help but not care.

Yuuri hopes the moon never comes up.

When the papers start sharing information with the public, Yuuri doesn’t read it. He finds out everything from Yuuko and Takeshi, his only friends now that the Japanese are no longer welcome in Vancouver as they used to be. They’d come to the conclusion that maybe the Nishigori’s should come live with the Katsuki’s after Yuuko found out she was pregnant. 

“I can’t really blame them, although this is excessive.” Yuuko took a sip of her tea. “They still don’t know exactly how many died, and they have no other information-” Takeshi shoves his chair away from the table, knocking it over in the process. He runs his hands through his hair, and ignores the stern look from Hiroko from across the room. 

“They can’t take our houses away from us! We live here, why would we-“

“Lower your voice, Nishigori Takeshi.” Hiroko snapped at him, “You need to remember that we are the ones who came here looking for a place to live, and since those closest to us have betrayed their trust they have no other choice.” She picked up a plate from the table and began washing it, “Could you imagine if this happened in Japan? We probably wouldn’t have been so kind.” 

“Hiroko,” Toshiya interrupted, “They’re sending us to internment camps. You know who else is being sent to camps? The Jewish, and they’re not making it out. You speak of kindness-“ 

“The Canadians have been good to us!” Yuuri snapped at his father, slamming his tea against the table. “We’re Canadian! We should have more faith! We need to show them that we’re loyal! I-I’ll find way to enrol.” Yuuri’s eyes got glossy, tears welling in them. “I don’t care if I have to give up everything to make them see.” Yuuko reached her hand across the table, grabbing Yuuri’s hand in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Yuuri-“ 

“No!” He pulled his hand away, “Takeshi, you were saying that they were possibly enrolling Japanese Canadians in Alberta?” 

“There’s just a possibility, Yuuri, that’s what Ushi told me-“ 

“Well, I’ll try!” The tears finally broke free and were streaming freely down his cheeks, “I’ll try everything, I don’t care. When we’re on our way to the internment camps I’ll find a way-“ Mari slapped him on the back of the head.

“Yuuri, they’ll be tougher on you since you’re-“ 

“I know! I know, it’s basically suicide.” Everybody in the room paused, suddenly aware of how serious the youngest was. “But if dying is what takes for them to understand, I’m willing to risk it.” 

The room was completely silent. The world stopped in that moment, and the moment dragged on for a day to Yuuri. Toshiya was the first one to move, laying a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder as he strode by. 

“I hope you change your mind, son.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thought he was ready, he thought he’d be prepared to leave. To be fair, he did give his family plenty of warning, but did he give himself enough time to think this through?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it threw you off, I did change the name of the fic. 
> 
> Also, I am trying to update this fic at least once a week if I can. Sometimes I'll update it two or three times a day, sometimes it will be three weeks, so don't count on it being regular.

Yuuri met Phichit on a train to Alberta. 

He’d never been to Alberta before, and it was much different from the west coast. Everything was flat, and there was no water, but it was pretty regardless. It was hard to appreciate though, considering the situation he was in. Conditions were cramped, and the only thing he could do to pass the time was look out the window, trying to focus on the landscape without the help of his glasses, that he had lost a few weeks before, and to keep the mood from the rest of the train car out of his thoughts. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, turning to face whoever had touched him, but was surprised. The boy looked to be younger than him, with dark hair and skin, and looked just as startled as Yuuri had been. 

“English?” The boy said, and Yuuri instinctively nodded. “Oh, good, may I sit beside you?” The boy spoke slowly, accent thick and unlike anything Yuuri had ever heard before. He nodded again, and the boy sat down, not trying to save any room in the cramped space between Yuuri and the older man that had been beside him. “I am Phichit.” He smiled at the taller man. 

“Yuuri.” He managed, but he was still startled by the sudden conversation and friendliness of Phichit, but it gave him a bit of confidence. If he was stuck on this train for the next few hours, he might as well make the best of it. 

“Where are you from, Phichit?” The younger boy’s eyes grew wide, and Yuuri couldn’t help but note that the whites of his eyes looked unbelievably bright next to his dark skin and corneas. 

“O-Oh, sorry.” Phichit continued, “I was expecting you to have a Japanese accent.” Yuuri cringed inwardly, but tried not to let it show. “My family is from Thailand.” Yuuri hummed quietly in acknowledgment, and looked over at Mari who was sleeping on his shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met somebody from Thailand before.” He adjusted Mari’s head so she wouldn’t have a crick in her neck when she woke up, “I didn’t know they’d send you to the camps as well.” Yuuri sounded a little disappointed, but he couldn’t help it. Every day since the news came out about Pearl Harbour, society seemed to reach a new low. 

“Oh, no- I’m actually going to enrol in the army.” Phichit smiled at him, although Yuuri was unsure whether it was genuine or not. “I heard that in Alberta they are a little more… tolerant.” Yuuri’s head suddenly shot up. 

“That’s why I am going to Alberta too! I mean, I would have had to anyway but…“ He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Where did you hear that?” His family still thought that he wouldn’t be able to, but he was sure he’d find a way. 

“A friend of my family told me. His son is Chinese and enrolled by himself in Calgary, and now he’s waiting for the call in Edmonton.” Phichit pointed at Mari, “Is that your wife?” 

“No! No,” Yuuri hadn’t realized he was absentmindedly running his fingers through Mari’s hair, not used to it being down like this. “This is my sister, and those two-“ he pointed to Takeshi and Yuuko sleeping on the floor beside Mari’s feet, “Are my friends. The rest of my family is on the next car. Where’s yours?” Phichit’s face fell. 

“It’s just my mother and younger brothers, and they’re staying in Victoria.” He smirked but trained his eyes at the ground, “I didn’t tell them I was leaving…” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” 

“What about your family? Do they know?” He kept his voice low, obviously in case Mari managed to wake up and hear. 

“Yes, but I don’t think they believe me.” Yuuri pulled his sister’s bangs back from her face again, “I am young and fairly fit, that’s pretty much all I have going for me, but the military doesn’t have to know about my anxiety or near-sightedness.” He chuckled to himself, as did Phichit. 

“Why do you want to join then?” 

“Because I love Canada.” He explained, “I also love Japan. I don’t remember it much, but I want to go back their some day. I want to remember.” Mari nuzzled into his shoulder a bit. “Sorry, you probably don’t care…” 

“No!” Phichit interrupted him, “I do! I think that’s neat of you. I miss Thailand much, too. I haven’t been off Vancouver Island in over a year, to tell you the truth.” He smiled at Yuuri again, genuinely this time. “I want to see the world. I want to see Thailand again. I want things to go back to how they were.” He reached out a hand for Yuuri to shake, and he complied without hesitation. 

“We’ll see it together, then.” 

Phichit and Yuuri spoke throughout the whole ride, telling each other about their lives and their cultures. They got along surprisingly well, even though Phichit’s accent was sometimes difficult to understand and he often stopped Yuuri to explain a word (and was thankful for the explanation), but they managed. When the train stopped briefly in Calgary, Yuuri panicked a bit. He thought he was ready, he thought he’d be prepared to leave. To be fair, he did give his family plenty of warning, but did he give himself enough time to think this through? Phichit rested a hand on his shoulder, breaking him from the brink of his spell of panic. 

“Ready, Yuuri?” Yuuri nodded quickly. He spared one glance at the onslaught of people rushing to the exit in the limited time they had to get off, and pushed Mari up by the shoulders, waking her gently. 

“Mari-neechan,” he rubbed her cheek softly with the pad of his thumb, trying to coax her to open her eyes. “It’s time for me to go now.” 

“We’re there already?” she mumbled sleepily. 

“No, Mari, just me.” Mari suddenly sobered, shooting up and looking around frantically. 

“Yuuri! You can’t be serious! What do you mean ‘just you’?” She gripped onto his sleeve tightly. 

“I’m fighting for our country, Mari, I told you already.” 

“Like hell you are!” Her voice was waivered now, on the brink of yelling. Takeshi had obviously woken up moments earlier because he stood slightly and rested a hand on Mari’s shoulder. 

“Mari let him go.” It was full of reluctance, whispered in rusty Japanese that hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time. 

“You’re just going to let him leave?!” She turned around, eyes wide in rage but glossy, threatening tears. 

“If that’s what Yuuri needs to do, he’s going to do it, regardless.” 

Mari opened her mouth to say something, but it closed tight, jaw clenched as she shrunk in on herself.

“What am I supposed to tell mom and dad, Yuuri?” A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he couldn’t stop from leaning over to kiss it away. 

“I already told them, so just don’t say anything.” She lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders, clutching on for dear life. “Ashite imasu, Mari.” He felt her arms tightened further. 

“I love you too, little brother.” When he broke away, the tears were flowing freely now, and it didn’t help him push down the tears he could feel welling in his eyes already. He looked up at Takeshi, who just put a hand on his shoulder and nodded solemnly. 

And with that, he picked up his suit case, turned on his heels, and followed Phichit out the door. He could hear Mari sobbing loudly into Takeshi’s chest as he pulled his scarf up over his ears and nose, bracing himself for the cold winds of the Mid-West. The thought of such a strong women bawling like a child at the mere thought of him leaving almost made him turn around, but he didn’t. It hurt, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other, eyes fixated on the back of Phichit’s head as he left the train car, and his life in Vancouver behind.

Not that Yuuri was surprised, but Calgary didn’t look anything like Vancouver. There were big buildings, rundown shops, and wealthy-looking people, but they weren’t the ones that Yuuri was familiar with. If he felt overwhelmed on the train, he couldn’t find a word to describe how he felt now. It was mid January, and cold like he had never experienced before, but he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and he was suddenly feeling the urge to shed a layer or two. 

“Yuuri, is everything alright?” Phichit once again broke through his thoughts, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“I-I’ll be fine, it’s just… I’m just nervous, is all.” 

“I’m nervous too.” He tried to reassure him. “Let’s figure out our plans and maybe get something to eat, okay? I’m starving, and it’ll give you some time to relax.” The Thai boy gave him that sickly-sweet smile again, and the tension in his shoulders eased a bit. 

Who was this Phichit guy? It was so unlike Yuuri to open up to somebody, especially in the following weeks of the bombing in Oahu. He’d spent so many sleepless nights fearing for what might happen to his family, and his culture, and the world, and it was almost like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders because of the way Phichit was smiling at him now, and had him flustered like an idiot. 

Hell, maybe it was because he hadn’t seen anybody genuinely smile in weeks; that kind of thing will do that to a person. 

“That sounds good. Where do we need to go?” 

“Ah,” Phichit rubbed the back of his neck, “We’ll need to ask for directions, but the recruitment centre is in town, not too far from the train station.” He looked around and saw an older man sitting on a bench, reading the morning paper. He lifted his bags up, grabbing the sleeve of Yuuri’s jacket and dragging him over. 

“Excuse me, could you please tell us where the closest recruitment office is?” The man looked up from his paper, looking unimpressed. 

“They won’t take you.” He grumbled around a lit cigarette. 

“Uh- Sorry, what was that?” 

“They won’t allow Jap shit to taint our army, I assure you.” Phichit’s jaw clenched and he stood a little bigger, hovering over the man, a new look in his eyes. This wasn’t the friendly Phichit Yuuri knew. 

“I’m Thai, you old kwai!” The man never broke Phichit’s gaze, ever stoic. 

“Whatever. It’s all the same.” 

“And it’s not Canadians like us you have to worry about, it’s the few stupid fucks who sided with the Nazis.” He pulled the cigarette from the man’s mouth, leaving his mouth gaping in shock as he dropped it between the mans feet and ground it out, spitting on it as he spun on his heels, Yuuri stumbling to follow. 

“Wow, Phichit I-“ 

“Don’t.” He grumbled under his breath, “It’s been a rough few weeks.” Yuuri nodded understandably, not pushing it any further. He fell in stride with Phichit till they reached a map of the city on the other side of the station, looking at it in silence for a few moments. 

“Excuse me,” a feminine voice made both boys turn towards the source. There stood a shorter woman, with lustrous eyes of an indescribable colour, coffee-coloured hair, and dark skin without flaws. “I couldn’t help but overhearing, you are looking for the recruitment office?” At the sound of her softly accented voice, Phichit was suddenly quiet for the first time Yuuri had met him, cheeks rosy, staring and gaping like a fish. 

“Yes, thank you.” Yuuri thought he should interfere before his friend embarrassed himself further. “Could you please point us in it’s direction?” 

“Better yet,” she shot him a toothy grin, “I can take you there!” She held a small hand out to Phichit, breaking him out of his haze. “Sara Crispino, I’m one of the nurses checking new enlisters.” She let go of Phichit’s hand to grab Yuuri’s, and he was surprised. Despite her size, her grip was strong and confident.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” He let go of her hand, and elbowed Phichit lightly to get him to focus again. 

“P-Phichit Chulanont, m’am!” Despite Phichit’s awkward actions, she just brushed it off with a giggle and motioned for them to follow her. 

“Where are you boys from? It looks like you just got off the train.” 

“We did. I’m from Vancouver, Phichit is from Victoria.” 

“Oh,” she looked slightly surprised, “You’re not friends then?”

“We just met on the train, actually.” She hummed in acknowledgment. “W-What about you?” He managed to stammer. 

“I’m from Italy, but I followed my brother here after he was transferred to Edmonton.” She set her own bags down as she hailed for a cab. “We’re twins, and we’ve been inseparable since birth. I had to come take care of him, you know?” When a taxi finally pulled over, she got in first, giving directions to the driver, and motioned for the boys to get in the back, and they did so quietly, Yuuri shuffling in and Phichit following. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sure things haven’t been so good for you two since the war started, especially you, Yuuri.” Yuuri bit his lip and nodded, fighting back the memories of the past few months. Sara sighed exasperatedly, “It hasn’t been easy for me or Mickey either. When Italy sided with Germany and Japan we were forced from our homes to England. The people of Canada have been a little more accepting of us though,” she rubbed some frost from the window, “but not much.” Yuuri couldn’t help but empathize. That sounded an awful lot like what he’d gone through. 

“We had to leave home, I’m sure you know.” He tried offering her a smile, “But we’ll show them! Just because we’re from Italy or Japan doesn’t mean we’re the bad guys!” Sara was obviously startled at his sudden outburst of passion, but soon she was grinning from ear to ear. 

“I like you, Yuuri.” She patted his thigh gently, “I’m glad you’re not deterred. It’s passion like that that’ll get you recruited for sure.” It was said like a compliment, but he could tell there was a bit of gloom in her words. Nobody wanted to see their friends and family sent off to fight. Nobody asked for this violence and hatred to happen, but it was happening regardless of what anybody wanted or asked for. The rest of the ride was fairly quiet apart from when Phichit leaned over to whisper into Yuuri's ear, asking what deterred meant. 

They arrived shortly, Sara reaching into her small satchel for fair, brushing off the boys as they scrambled to reach into their pockets for some change to pay the cabbie. They stepped out into the air in front of a large, grey building, and when they stepped inside Yuuri felt overwhelmed once again. He had seen the photos of recruitment offices before, packed to the brim with rows upon rows of eager candidates past the door and down the street; this was not quite that extreme, but the building was still bustling with activity and quite crowded. 

Sara picked up some clipboards and pens from the counter and said her goodbyes, resting a hand gently on Phichit’s shoulder that was gone as fast as it’d been there. When she left to do her work, Yuuri suddenly felt naked; aware of all of the eyes directed towards the two skinny Asians that had just walked in the door, sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of large white men. 

“Maybe we should sit down?” Phichit whispered, 

“Good call.” 

Yuuri guided him around to a generally secluded area of the room, where they began filling out their paperwork. It took no time; simple questions like full name, date of birth, and medical history. After both finished, Yuuri got up to bring the papers to the counter, and when he returned Phichit had that same deer-in-the-headlights look as when Sarah had approached them. 

“Is something wrong, Phichit? Did somebody say something to you again?” 

“N-No, nothing like that.” Yuuri sat down again, trying to follow his friend’s gaze to see what had him so bothered. Nothing was out of the ordinary, other than a younger Korean man, about Phichit’s age, sitting a few metres away. 

“What, do you have something against Koreans or something?” Yuuri scoffed at him teasingly. 

“Uh- No!” He shook his head, looking flustered. “Of course not! Yuuri, don’t joke like that.” He put his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. No doubt he’d be exhausted after a day like today, or rather, anybody would be exhausted after these last few months.

“Do you know him? Want me to go talk to him or-” 

“No, really, it’s fine. Just drop it.” Yuuri was still unconvinced that everything was ‘fine’, but he didn’t press further. 

They waited in silence, ignoring the prying eyes on them at all times, watching the nurses enter alone and leave with a potential soldier, until Sara came out and called Phichit’s name with a wide, Cheshire-like grin. 

“Good luck.” Yuuri murmured under his breathe, not just for Phichit, but for Sarah too. Suddenly, a slim redheaded nurse appeared from the hallway, glancing around. 

“Yuuri Katsuki?” 

“Uh, yes, that’s me.” He stood slowly, but he didn’t feel in control of his body, it was as if it was on autopilot. He followed her into a closed-off room, where she motioned for him to sit on a small, portable bed on the far side of the room. She picked up the form he had filled out earlier; looking over it in silence till she had the information she wanted.

“It says here you’re from Hasetsu, Japan. Where are you really from?” She had an accent, maybe Russian, but Yuuri had only ever met a one person with a Russian accent in his life; a foreign-exchange student at school, but he began to lose it during the tenth grade. 

“Uh, I don’t understand?” 

“You have a Canadian accent. It’s obvious you have lived here a long time, so where are you really from?” He didn’t know whether to feel proud or offended, really. 

“Vancouver. I’m from Vancouver.” She reached into a box and pulled out a tongue depressor. 

“Open,” she motioned to his mouth, which he opened. “That’s quite a long way, Mr. Katsuki.” She looked around a bit in his mouth, at his teeth and tonsils, then removed it. “You must be very serious about joining the war. Do you believe you’re truly Canadian?” she wrote a few things down before turning back to Yuuri with a small light in hand, face stoic and emotionless to Yuuri’s current bewildered gaze. 

“Well, I am a Canadian citizen after all Ms.-” he looked down at her nametag, “Babicheva.” He held back his anger a bit, but it still came out with a bit of malice. 

“Smart boy.” She smirked, holding the light up to his eyes, “Look at me.” He did as he was told; jaw still clenched tight with anger. “But in the war that doesn’t really matter, Mr. Katsuki. You know that, right?” She flicked the light on, shining it into his right eye. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because I’ve turned away a lot of men like you.” She switched eyes, “Men who weren’t quite physically capable but had all the will in the world. On the other hand, I’ve accepted too many white men who were terrified like children, who looked sick at the thought of war, who had no choice but to enrol, but were the epitome of athleticism.” She pulled away, turning the light off.

“What makes you think you’re different?” 

“Because I’ll find a way.” She turned around to set some things up on the counter behind her, “Regardless of if you let me through I’m going to find a way to help, and to show my country my loyalty.” The nurse smirked, not as conniving as her last one, and turned towards the Japanese man once again.

“I’m glad to hear it, Yuuri.” She pointed to a chart set up on the adjacent wall, “Now, what does this sign say?” 

When he was finished, she handed him a piece of paper with some writing on it, and sent him on his way. He held it tightly, almost enough to tear the edges. Again that feeling of being under water returned, but he managed to wade through it, finding his way to the lobby once more, where Phichit was slumped in a chair. 

“Yuuri!” He shot up, “What did they say?” 

“I got in.” He replied, but his voice didn’t sound like him. 

“Oh,” Phichit mumbled, “I didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri says 'Ashite imasu' to Mari, which I'm sure you can tell means 'I love you'. 
> 
> While researching for this chapter I learned that in Thai the word "Kwai" means buffalo, which is considered an insult because they're big and slow and stupid. So, that's why Phichit used that word. *insert the more you knew gif from reading rainbow here*
> 
> Also, yes, the second nurse was Mila (a.k.a my wife, who will definitely return in the future, along with Sarah.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whoa, you actually speak English? When I saw your mug get on the bus I was wondering if you’d gotten lost.” The man in the seat in front of Yuuri said, turning around in his seat. Equally as manly, but he looked quite different. His hair was black like Yuuri’s, but his eyes were steely grey and his jaw was much more pronounced. Handsome, despite the words that just flew out of his mouth. 
> 
> “I’m Canadian so, y’know, I should probably speak the language of my own country, right?”

“I’ll find you.” 

Phichit held onto Yuuri’s shoulder a little too tight as he looked up into his eyes friend’s hazel eyes. He didn’t imagine their departing so gloomy; it had been less than a week since they met on the train to Calgary, but now he was boarding the bus to Edmonton and he felt his heart pang at the thought of leaving the younger boy behind. 

“I know you will, Phichit.” 

“I mean it.” He squeezed a little tighter. “I’m going to join, somehow somewhere, and I am going to find you.” Yuuri felt his eyes become glossy, “You’ve motivated me in ways you don’t even know, Yuuri Katsuki. If it weren’t for you, I would have probably gotten back on that train and never returned.” He was trying to stay strong, but his voice waivered, causing Yuuri to wrap and arm around his neck and pull him closer. 

“Don’t get into any bad business without me.” 

“You know I’m all about bad business.” Yuuri pulled away, and rolled his eyes with a snicker, remembering all the ridiculous stories Phichit had shared with him these past few days that had him in hysterics. 

“I mean it, you knucklehead!” He pulled away, picking up his bag, “Please enter the army legally, Phichit, I don’t want to have to chew you out when we see each other again.” The Thai boy gave him two thumbs up, making him laugh once again before he hopped in the bus.

Yuuri tried not to let the sniggering get to him as he shuffled down the cramped isle of the bus, trying to make himself as small as possible. He settled into an empty seat in the middle of the bus, pulling his bag tight to his chest. Phichit had given him some reassurance at least, but now that he was by himself what was he going to do? He felt like he did on his first day of school in Canada. Barely knowing any English, wearing clothes that weren’t quite up the other kid’s standards, looking different from everybody else. 

“Hey,” A blond-haired man sat on the bench adjacent to his, “That your boyfriend?” He grinned at Yuuri, showing his rows of perfect, pearly-white teeth. He was much bigger than Yuuri, the poster-boy for army brats, and his friends sneering around him weren’t much different, so Yuuri decided to avoid confrontation. 

“Just a friend.” He grumbled, averting his gaze. 

“Whoa, you actually speak English? When I saw your mug get on the bus I was wondering if you’d gotten lost.” The man in the seat in front of Yuuri said, turning around in his seat. Equally as manly, but he looked quite different. His hair was black like Yuuri’s, but his eyes were steely grey and his jaw was much more pronounced. Handsome, despite the words that just flew out of his mouth. 

“I’m Canadian so, y’know, I should probably speak the language of my own country, right?” As soon as it came out of his mouth, Yuuri regretted it. 

“Ooh!” The ravenette laughed, “I like you, wise guy, what’s your name?” 

“Yuuri.” 

“What kind of name is Yu-ri?” Yuuri squinted at him, unsure if he was mocking or being serious. 

“It’s Yuuri. My family is Japanese.” The man nodded, “And you?” He grinned widely, shuffling so he was completely turned around in his seat, ignoring the annoyed noises his seatmate was making. 

“Jean-Jacques Leroy, the one and only!” He brought his hands up to his face, making the symbol of two J’s. “But my friends call me JJ. King JJ if that suits your fancy.” Yuuri’s mouth was agape, in shock at the man’s antics, but he kept quiet, afraid to egg him on any further. “Wait!” He suddenly bellowed, “Your family is Japanese and they still let you join the army?” 

“Katsuki.” A voice cut through JJ’s obnoxious atmosphere, and he turned his head to look at where the voice came from. It was the young Korean boy from the recruitment office, the same blank expression on his face from before. Up close Yuuri could see the distinct features on his face, a small nose and piercing eyes, and thick dark eyebrows. “Would you prefer to sit with me?” His voice was deep, not matching his face, and it took a moment for Yuuri to process where it had come from. 

“Uh- S-Sure! Thanks,” he picked up his bag and shuffled into the isle again, following the boy to the back of the bus. 

“Oh, c’mon!” JJ called loudly after him, “I was just joking, man!” He ignored him. The Korean took the window seat, but Yuuri thought it would be best not to argue. He looked out the window, and didn’t pay him any mind when Yuuri shuffled into the isle seat beside him, once again clutching his bag tightly. 

“How did you know my name?” Yuuri enquired, but the man still didn’t look at him. 

“They called your name at the recruitment office just as I was returning from my examination.” Yuuri was kind of getting weirded out by the lack of eye contact in this conversation, until the man turned to look at him. “My name is Seung-Gil Lee.” He bowed slightly, making Yuuri automatically return the gesture. After so many years of meeting grandparents and welcome new immigrants in the town, that custom still stuck with him.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, which would’ve felt awkward if Yuuri didn’t sleep for four of the five hours they were on the bus. When he woke up, his head was resting on Seung-Gil’s shoulder, and he shot up, wiping a speck of drool from the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh- Oh god, I’m sorry! You should’ve woken me up.” 

“It is no worry.” Seung-Gil reassured him, looking un-phased. The fact that he could look so stoic at all times showed that he’d make a good soldier, thought Yuuri. That was something he struggled with; he showed his heart on his sleeve, always showing his emotions too strongly. It made him an easy target for bullying in elementary school. 

“We have arrived, it is time to get off.” Yuuri nodded, picking up his bag that had fallen to the floor while he slept. He stood, slipping himself into line with the other men, and followed into step as they all loaded off. The camp was not as large as Yuuri had expected, but it was still bustling with activity in the noonday sun. They were greeted by a short yet intimidating man with greying hair, wrinkles deep-set in his face, wearing an eternal frown. Yuuri yawned, covering his mouth with his free hand, and shaking in the frigid winds. The bus was so hot from over-crowding; it was a shock to his senses when he entered into the air, despite the sun so high in the sky. 

“Hello, new recruits. I’m Colonel Yakov Feltsman. From my accent I am American, but by my name you can tell that I hail from Russia. And let me tell you, in Russia you would all be inadequate candidates for the military.” As he began walking down the line of soldiers Yuuri snuck a glance at the others, noticing JJ’s signature smirk gone completely, and Seung-Gil looking unaffected by his intimidating glare. “So, it is my job to turn you all into superb soldiers, no matter the price.” He locked eyes with Yuuri briefly, looked him up and down, then continued his way down the line. His breathe caught in his throat, what must this man think of him right now? Was Mari right? Would they really give him a harder time since he was Japanese? 

Would they even give him a chance? 

The panic began to rise again, but he pushed it down despite the knot in his throat. He couldn’t let his weakness show in front of these men.

“Now, I will ask some other soldiers to show you to your barracks. Once you’ve gotten yourselves situated, you will begin your work. It may seem sudden to you but in due time you will get used to it. I won’t accept anything less than your best.” He turned and waved to a group of soldiers, looking like they were jogging, perfectly in synch. They walked over to the colonel, raising a hand to their foreheads in salute. “At ease, please.” They removed them, and broke formation, letting a silver-haired man slip through the ranks to speak to Colonel Feltsman. 

He was taller than Yakov, no doubt taller than Yuuri, but not quite as tall as JJ or Takeshi. From here, he couldn’t quite see the colour of his eyes but he could see the slope of his nose and the sharp line of his jaw Yuuri was sure you’d cut your finger on if you touched. 

Oh, fuck. 

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Oh, shit! 

Yuuri was done for. 

The man was absolutely gorgeous. Obviously toned under his olive jacket and jogging pants, he was Yuuri’s ideal in every way. Why the hell did this have to happen now? He’d been doing so well at supressing these feelings since he was younger, why did they come back so suddenly and without warning? That awkwardness returned, the same feeling he felt when he turned Yuu down in ninth grade. The man walked in front of the rows of recruits, legs spread in an assertive stance, giving them the same icy glare that Colonel Yakov had. 

“Second lieutenant Viktor Nikiforov.” Russian. Yuuri’s stomach flipped upside down, making him fear losing his barely-eaten breakfast. His presents oozed confidence and authority despite him only being second lieutenant. 

“I’d like to welcome you all, and I hope that we will get along during our time together.” The raven-haired man’s knees felt weak suddenly, he hoped everybody else couldn’t tell He was so distressed, but he desperately hoped the lieutenant paid him no mind. “If you follow me I’ll take you to where you will be staying. Please remember to keep it clean and be mindful of others around you, this isn’t your mother’s house, and she’s not here to clean up after you.” And with that, he spun on his heels gracefully, leading the group to the barracks. He let out a sigh of relief that it was over, and followed the others. 

“Hey,” Yuuri looked up through his eyelashes at JJ, “You didn’t look so hot when the ruskie was talking, are you feelin’ okay?” Apparently he wasn’t doing such a good job if somebody as oblivious to other people as JJ had noticed. 

“Yeah, it’s fine, I just think it’s finally sinking in where I am. It’ll pass,” He lied, but apparently that was enough for JJ. He nodded, and shoved his cold, bare hands into the pockets of his jacket, shifted his bag up his shoulder. As he caught up the blond man from earlier, Yuuri noted that maybe he wasn't quite as bad as he seemed. 

The lieutenant wasn’t lying; this really wasn’t his mother’s house. The building was ginormous, much larger than Yuuri’s home, and had rows upon rows of bunk beds lining each wall, with a chest at the end for personal belongings. Upon further inspection, he found that the sheets were scratchy and the mattress and pillow were quite hard, but he considered himself lucky. At least he had a bed, however scratchy it may be. 

While inspecting the bed, he felt a presence beside him, and looked up to see Seung-Gil also standing over it, looking at the sheets.

“I thought maybe we could bunk together.” He explained, “I do not want to be stuck with a fat-head like Jean-Jacques.” Yuuri fought back a smirk at such a well-worded kid like Seung-Gil using a phrase like ‘fat-head’, but nodded hastily. 

“Yeah, no problem. That’s a good idea.” He picked his bag off the bottom bunk, “Which would you prefer?” 

“I’ll take the top.” Yuuri mentally breathed a sigh of relief; he didn’t think he could’ve managed with the top bunk. He set his bag back down on the bed and opened it up, looking at what items he had brought with him. It was basically just clothes and some money, and a few photos from his desk back home that he managed to salvage. He looked down at them, admiration clear on his face. He pulled out the one of himself, Mari, and Vicchan on the beach with the beautiful sunset. Regardless of whether he remembered this day or not, it gave him a strange feeling of reassurance. Somehow, in that moment, everything was going to work out. 

“Everything alright, or are our lodgings a little too ritzy for your liking?” Yuuri practically jumped in the air at the sudden voice over his shoulder interrupting his thoughts. He clutched the photo tight to his heaving chest as his eyes met azure blue. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?” The lieutenant’s eyes, that were most definitely blue, were wide and his hands were up defensively, and his sleeves had been rolled back a bit, revealing toned forearms that obviously hadn’t seen the sun for a while. Yuuri relaxed a bit, seeing as the man’s presence didn’t seem so overbearing in that moment. 

“Sorry, just-“ He huffed and ran a hand through his hair, “Caught up in the moment.” Lieutenant Nikiforov let his arms drop down to his sides, convinced the smaller man was alright. 

“Well no need to be alarmed, I just thought I would stop by to say hello.” Sapphire eyes lit up in amusement but just briefly enough that Yuuri could’ve been mistaken. “And your name is?” 

“Yuuri Katsuki.” Despite the lieutenant’s calm demeanour, Yuuri still felt intimidated. Viktor Nikiforov was like a one of those models on Mari’s magazines, the one’s he’d steal sometimes to ‘relax’ with. Too perfect looking, and always out of his reach, but none of them came close to the sheer beauty standing in front of him. 

“Well Yuuri,” the way he rolled the ‘r’ lightly in his thick accent and the glint in his eyes as they met his own made something in Yuuri’s stomach tremble and knot up again, and he leaned in slightly before adding, “I look forward to working with you.” Then he was gone, just as fast as he came. 

The moment he moved on, it was like Yuuri could breathe again. He let his head fall back against the board of the bunk bed, making a slight thump as it made contact, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. 

“Why are you so frightened of him? You just met, correct?” Yuuri turned his head to meet eyes with Seung-Gil, having paused from whatever he was doing on the top bunk. He’d probably seen the entire ordeal. 

“I’m not he just startled me, that’s all.” He took the all of the photos out and shimmied into the bottom bunk with a small roll of scotch tape and began taping the photos to the bottom of Seung-Gil’s bed. 

“You seemed to be more than startled.” The monotonous voice sounded almost mischievous now, “But if you choose not to explain, I won’t force you.” Yuuri was thankful. Despite Seung-Gil being much different from Phichit, he was polite enough, and seemed quite tidy. 

Regardless of the hardships he was about to face, he knew he had made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we've introduced my babies JJ and Viten'ka, and Yuuri's hopeless crush is all too obvious. 
> 
> Also, not only have I been researching more about the war, I've also been brushing up on my 40's slang, so look forward to that. A lot of it is things we still use today, just not as much. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Also, I've been receiving some questions on Instagram about ages. Yuuri is currently twenty and Viktor is 24, so their age gap is the same. Other than that, everybody is pretty much the same age except for Phichit, who is 18. I'll update as the characters are introduced.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! If you'd like to discuss the show/yell at me for the shit I've pulled, go ahead and hit me up on Instagram @queers.on.ice or on Tumblr (where I'm not as active) as queers-on-ice.
> 
> The show may be on hiatus, but this is my way of coping.


End file.
